


OH

by Moonsetta



Series: DUO [7]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Family, Fourth of July, M/M, Marriage, Picnic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonsetta/pseuds/Moonsetta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You can resume your attempts of dissolving your marriage in the morning Master Bruce. Get your tail end out there and enjoy the fireworks with you husband and son!" Companion piece to BE. Gift-Fic for ChibiFoxAI!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Years Everyone! Honestly most of these updates to the DUO series were supposed to happen back in November but real life delays! If you're curious said delays are explained in my profile since I don't want to write a long message here.
> 
> Just a short one-shot. Nothing really happens, it's kind of just...here. Also, Alfred is awesome! It's pretty dialogue heavy but I felt I needed to work on dialogue anyways.

"-but Alfred…"

Batman was NOT whining!

…No matter what look Alfred Pennyworth was directing at him.

The two were down in the master's alternate home, the billionaire hunched over a bunched up ball of multicolored papers that were lying on the edge of a red folder-almost ready to fall off of the desk.

"The finer points of the forgotten 1980's Brazilian Codes of Union can be put off until the morning Master Bruce."

"They can't Alfred. Section 1, subsection 9, page 4, paragraph 3 says that 'Unions established beyond Depot county can be amenable to-'

The butler suddenly darted forward and slapped one edge of the folder over the sphere of word-covered pages.

"Enough," he said calmly but strangely definitely.

He scanned his master's appearance and double-agreed with his earlier assumption. Mr. Wayne needed a break. His old white t-shirt had turned a dusty gray from all of the time he had spent in the cave lately. His eyes, though neither bloodshot nor caverned by dark shadows, did have a weariness about them that spoke of reading too many papers. His hands, though not jumpy were sagging a bit from too many legal points being crisscrossed across countries and continents.

"You had a similar finding in a political Indian diamond mining contract and look where that lead."

Bruce groaned and raised his hands to bury his face in them. He did NOT want to discuss the layers of jargon that lead to him buying stock into a forgotten Crayola factory on an island off of India's shore line that did technically NOT even exist. He did not need another one of those.

…how freaking hard is it to dissolve a marriage?

When it came to the threaded together license and contract Damian had thrown together-impossible!

Bruce was strangely kind of proud of his son though. The boy had used all of Al Ghul's contacts and resources to make this a reality and everything had been covered that he could point a legal finger at.

But it was making his job very hard. That being his job as Batman, as everyone at the Watchtower was eying him wearily but where before his appearance had resulted in caution, fear and the greatest determination to not make stupid mistakes in his presence now it was: uneasiness. The Titans were STILL being a nuisance. Before they had been willing to outright cuss him out if he had hurt Dick but now-oh no holds bars now! When the rumor got to the Tower that Batman and Nightwing had had a public argument (when in reality it had been about the fortune cookies vs the egg rolls from a new local restaurant the family had had the night before) he had gotten speared by Tempest's Trident! And the quantum arrow that Bruce knew Oliver had warned Roy about? It had ended up in his shoulder not three seconds later. Thankfully he had been able to sway away from Troia's new sword (apparently certain birthdays on Paradise Island meant the gods gave you brand new, indestructible mythical weapons!) and throw the quantum arrow far enough inside a Watchtower panic room to avoid the explosion.

It was ridiculous-like he'd have to start pulling Nightwing with him to League meetings to avoid getting impaled!

"You have spent 30 hours down here," Alfred said, reminding Bruce of where he was and bringing his mind away from the wound in his left shoulder.

Apparently Tempest impaling someone with his trident was more magic than a physical injury because it had left no open wound-just a strange taste in his stomach. Aquaman had said it would dissipate with time and normal nutrient consumption but he hadn't really been eating lately.

"-but if there's a chance-"

The butler glared before he said lowly, "Then it will still be there tomorrow."

"-but-"

"You can resume your attempts of dissolving your marriage in the morning Master Bruce. Get your tail end out there and enjoy the fireworks with you husband and son!"

"Alfred-"

Now the butler's arms were crossed over his chest.

Uh oh!

"Are you arguing with me Bruce THOMAS Wayne?"

Crap! Middle-name spiel! He was in trouble!

The billionaire gulped-eyes VERY wide.

...

He did as he was told and it was completely foolish to have stopped by the kitchen after changing as if to say. 'See Alfred? I can be a good boy.'

* * *

But alas, he was outside just as a few pops and booms went off in the distance. The July night air was electrically alight with fireworks but had a slight damp chill to it from the day's recent rain. The lawn stretched out before him was dotted with a few blankets. Stephanie and Tim were seated upon one with a floral design among a large amount of various salads and cheesecakes. The far edge of the field held the shaded figures of Barbara and her father-both of who waved in greeting. Bruce returned the gesture with a forced smile. Turning right he saw Cassandra sitting on a small yellow picnic blanket with a smiling sun on it. Cassandra herself was staring up at the birdhouse that she had set the blanket beneath and was carefully eying a little sparrow upon it twitch whenever it heard the fireworks in the distance. Helena and Kate were surprisingly sharing a red blanket with a multitude of fruit drinks stood up in a mock-army row between them. They were both leaning towards one another though, talking in more-than-likely conspiracy whispers.

And finally Bruce's eyes landed on a traditional red and white checkered blanket spread out beneath a large tree off to one side near the front of the yard. Damian Wayne was waving away a confused Dick Grayson. Bruce amusingly watched as the ten year old boy said something stoutly and then violently pointed to the left upper corner of the blanket. Apparently this had been an order and the acrobat was quick to follow it. Bruce began his trek across the lawn towards his 'partner' and son, surprisingly picking up that the turning away Flying Grayson was actually smiling after being given the order. Maybe Bruce was a bit jealous in that. His protégés didn't listen to him like that! What did Damian do to get that level of loyalty?

The acrobat glanced up after that thought and his smile grew a bit wider as he waved at Bruce.

The billionaire returned a not-as-bright smile and finished his trek across the lawn. That's when Damian finally noticed him.

"Father! Finally! I see Alfred has accomplished his task. Dad, see to it he has a raise."

The acrobat's face went blank and he blinked a few times as he turned his head to look back at the boy, "Uh, sure thing Dami."

The child assassin nodded tightly with closed eyes, only to find that his father had halted his movements at the edge of the blanket and was making no additional hints that he was planning to continue to move.

"Sit down father," Damian said with a wave at the spot next to his dad.

"Damian-"

"Just sit down Honey Bun," Dick said with an under-the-breath snort.

Bruce's face burned in humiliation before he did lower himself down onto the picnic blanket.

"Sure, Duckie."

Now the acrobat's burned as he scowled at his 'husband.'

"Love you too."

Bruce smirked. VICTORY! Though he'd probably pay for later but hey-he'd take it!

"Pardon?" Damian asked after clearing his throat.

"Huh?"

The boy was standing up very regal-like and had a bottle of wine in each hand.

"Where did you get those?" Bruce barked his once embarrassed face suddenly turning angry.

Damian scoffed, "It is not hard to locate your alcohol father. Now, would you enjoy a glass of Mountain Dusk Blackberry or would you prefer Sunland Citrus?"

"We'll have the Mountain Dusk," Dick said, reaching up to clamp a hand over Bruce's mouth before the billionaire could let out any more accusations.

"Excellent."

Bruce threw off the hand and turned his angry eyes onto his partner.

"What was that for?"

The acrobat shrugged before he spoke quietly, "It's a better brand than Sunland we both know that."

"You have ten seconds to assure me that Damian's not ingesting alcohol!" Bruce hissed.

Dick turned his own angry eyes back on his mentor, "Bruce, first of all he's not ingesting alcohol-I'm not that irresponsible. Second of all, could you relax some? He's trying to give us a romantic night here."

"He-what?"

Bruce's further inquiries went unanswered though as Damian walked back across the blanket with two sparkling crystal wine glasses, each 3/4ths full of the dark purple Mountain Dusk. Both men shared a guilty mutual look before they reached up to take the glasses. Damian let loose one of his rare smiles before he turned and walked back to the other side of the blanket. In fact, now that Bruce was sitting there he found that the far perimeter of the red and white checkerboard blanket had a large basket, an ice bucket and a cloth bag sitting partially in the grass. He watched in confusion as Damian picked up the bucket and walked back around the edge to sit it by Bruce's side. The billionaire took a moment to glance at his companion to see that the he was completely absorbed with his dark reflection in his own wine glass. Bruce glanced back at his son just as the boy had lifted the cloth bag over his shoulder and picked up the basket between his hands.

What was stumping the older man was that the child appeared to fidget for a moment before traversing the spread of the blanket a final time to put the basket in front of the couple. Damian forced another rare, if not seemingly kind of condensing if not slightly-maniacal, smile at his parents.

"I made it all myself. Enjoy."

And with that he turned away from the couple and began walking away.

"Damian!" Dick shouted after him.

"I will join you later parental units. I have a mission!"

The two men blinked once each and shared another glance.

"Mission?" Bruce whispered.

Dick's eyes left his companion's for a moment and then his surprised look melted into a fond smile. He pointed over Bruce's shoulder and the billionaire turned, his eyes immediately gluing themselves to his son's form. Damian had joined Cassandra on her smiling-sun blanket and was currently talking with her and pointing up at the sparrow in front of the birdhouse before reaching into his cloth bag to remove a wrapped up piece of bread. The two men watched with awe as the two assassins gleefully pulled apart the bread into small bits and tossed them up onto the small standing edge around said birdhouse.

Scary. Frightening. Assassins.

"Well, OK then," the acrobat murmured, turning his head back to stare down at the wine he had yet to take a drink of.

"Yeah," Bruce whispered, his eyes drifting to the picnic basket that sat between them.

"We should-" he muttered, motioning to the basket before taking a drink of the wine.

Hmm. A slow burn.

The acrobat glanced at the basket and raised a worried eyebrow, "I don't know. I mean I know how horrible YOU are in the kitchen-"

Bruce scowled, "You turn the coffee maker into a rocket one time…"

"Bruce, it went through the ceiling. EVERY ceiling!"

"It still worked after it landed!" Bruce protested.

"In the fireplace after going down the chimney."

"…it'll hurt Damian's feelings if we don't eat."

Crap! Did Bruce know how to 180 a conversation!

The acrobat released a long suffering sigh, "Fine, but I'm doing this for Damian-not you."

"Noted."

They both reached for the basket simultaneously hands bumping awkwardly.

"Sorry," Bruce muttered, pulling back and focusing back on the wine in his other hand.

Dick continued staring at his partner for a few more moments-not blinking-(creepy), before he continued to reach for the latch on the front of the basket.

Here went nothing.

* * *

You had Alfred Pennyworth's cooking-which was divine. You had Dick Grayson's cooking-which was good. You had Stephanie Brown's cooking-which was average. Tim Drake's-which was passable. Jason Todd's-which was often out of a freshly opened can. Cassandra Cain's: Remove Head. Eat. Occasionally-indulge-in-secret-addiction-of-homemade-Chex-Mix. Barbara Gordon's: Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.

Then you had the cooking of the son of Bruce Wayne.

He made decent sandwiches though (Dick mentally thanked Talia for apparently having this hidden skill, overriding Bruce's genes and passing it on to her son) and there was good wine. The only cooked things that had come out eatable were the apple turnovers and Bruce voiced his suspicions about Alfred-Interference as they continued to watch the fireworks in Gotham City's night sky.

The July air was still warm and red, white and blue were exploding all over the city.

"This is…nice," Bruce finally admitted.

"Yeah," Dick breathed before he took the last sip of his wine and passed his glass over for his partner to sit it by the ice bucket.

"So…" Bruce wasn't certain of how to start this conversation.

"How's the annulation going?"

Bruce frowned and stared down at the last drink he had of his own wine.

"There's not much I can do legally."

"Who's going to know?"

"The U.N. first and foremost. It's an international license after all."

"Will they bring it up to the public?"

"Most likely."

"How long do we have as of right now?"

The billionaire shrugged.

"Three weeks, perhaps a month. A lot less if their efficiency is on the rise."

"Damn! I knew being married to you would be nothing but trouble!"

"Hey!"

Smirk. "Don't you want honesty in this relationship, Sweetie Pie?"

Eyebrow raise. "After all of the things I do to please you, Cupcake."

Blink. Scowl.

"Is that all you got Studmuffin?"

Insolent grin. "Oh it's not even close, Babe."

Blink. Blink. "Really? Can't come up with anything good Hot Stuff?

Smirk. "They're all good, Bright Eyes."

Pout. "If you believe so, Romeo."

Sideways smile. "No need to pout, Sunshine."

Crossed arms. "I'll pout if I want to, Boo."

Smile. "Ease up, Lover."

Smile. "Never, Sweetums."

"Don't do this to me, Sugar."

"No promises, Chief."

"You have to promise me something, Angel."

Chuckle. "You're crazy if you believe this is going anywhere, Big Guy."

Big Smirk. "I think it's somewhere already, Chickadee."

Eyebrow Raise with Smile. "Your hopes are a little high there, Casanova."

"This coming from you, Daredevil?"

"If you say so, Cowboy."

"Oh but I do, Darling."

Point. "Too much confidence there, Fruit Loop."

"Not as sweet as you, Dumpling."

"That's not fair, Honey Bear."

Narrowed eyes. "It's completely fair, Honey Badger."

Scoff. "Keep trying you might impress me yet, Hercules."

"Sure, Giggles."

Smile in Eyes. "Still waiting to be impressed, Gorgeous."

"I'm impressing all the time, Pumpkin."

Eye roll. "Sure you are, Tiger."

…

"Bat-Bastard."

"Bird-Brat."

Dick threw up his hands as laughter bubbled out of him, "OK, you win Boss. You win."

The billionaire's smirk grew as he mock-shouted, "Victory!"

The acrobat leaned back as his laughter faded into a gasp of breath.

"The finale!"

Both men looked up as the Gotham City sky-scape exploded into a large array of bright reds, whites and blues, one screaming rocket exploding into an American flag over Wayne Tower in the distance. For all of it, Bruce had to admit, this-was a little enjoyable. Even if they would have to make the remainder of food in the picnic basket vanish before Damian got back. It was so strange for his eyes to be focusing on the bright colors and his ears on the screaming and streaming of festive rockets so he blamed them. Blamed them for why he didn't hear his partner moving closer.

Weight. Shoulder.

The older man glanced over to find that his companion had not only moved closer but had leaned over to rest his head against his shoulder.

"Dick?"

A yawn followed the statement before-

"I don't know, Boss. Maybe being married to you isn't…so bad."

"…"

THUMP!

What was going on? Why had his heart…skipped a beat?


	2. DUO Timeline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I created a new color-coded timeline for this insane series. Yay?

[](http://s1381.photobucket.com/user/MoonsettaRays/media/tumblr_nkteie0yiQ1s99hymo1_1280_zpseo6csntm.jpg.html)

Thanks for reading! Use whenever you're lost.


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